New Old Kicks

"What are we even doing here?" I asked as we passed some scraggly wino. "You don't even smoke dope."

"We gotta come here. I can feel it," Eric said. He pointed. "There."

A tall, dark-haired man I'd never seen before nodded as if he recognized us. He held up a small glass tube, and suddenly I wanted that vial more than anything in the world. The man smiled as we stumbled toward him.

"It never fails," he said.

"What?" I panted. "What is it?"

"Quantum foam. Freebased. It burns backwards." He rattled the drug in his hands. "You're already addicted."

Squatting in the Furnished Rooms

"I am out of creamer and sugar," the coffeemaker told P1ng.

He rolled her eyes. "Just put hot water in the cup."

"Water service non-functional," the sink announced.

"Quiet!" P1ng poured the steaming water into a chipped bowl of scrounged insta-noodles.

The refrigerator piped up. "You are out of milk-eggs-butter-broccoli-asparagus..."

"I said shut it!"

"You should just ignore them," Laura said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"You'd think they'd figure it out. When do they run down?"

"Well, they're mostly solar, so... never."

"Can't even have a proper friggin' apocalypse."

The popcorn machine beeped. P1ng threw his mug at it.

Weregild

"He's awfully late," said Rek, pacing.

The door chimed and the foyer-vid cut on, though it still only displayed static.

"See?" said Triv. "Speak of the devil."

Rek gestured the door open. A hulking form stood outside, sensor lights flickering in the black nodule at its chest. Its matte surface gave back no light. A Viceroy.

"Oh," said Rek. "Oh." She sank to her knees.

"Hira Sebi was selected for transmission," the Viceroy said. "Please accept compensation." It pressed a chit into Rek's hand. Her fingers closed convulsively around it.

The Viceroy glided away in silence. The door spiraled shut.